Showing posts with label orphan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label orphan. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Climbing Towards Hope

I was 13 yrs old almost 14 on November 2, 1984. I was an 8th grader in middle school living with my mom and dad and brothers in Illinois, and my biggest decision was if my best friend and I should sleep over at her house or mine on Friday night. My future husband was a sophmore in high school, 14 almost 15 years old. He lived thirty minutes away from me, just down the road from Six Flags Great America, with his mom and little sister. 

We didn't even know each other then.

We barely even knew ourselves. 

Yet, one thousand miles away in Colorado, a baby was born on that day who would one day call us (us!) Mom and Dad. 

Fast-forward twelve years to 1997 and the scene shows my husband and I with our own 4 month old baby Cody, living in Wisconsin. A social worker knocks on our door and after spending five minutes in our living room, she drops off two skinny, mop-headed boys ages 8 and 12, and that is the day we all became family. As a newly married couple of less than two years, ourselves in our mid twenties, with all of four months of parenting experience consisting of changing poopy diapers and rocking a crying baby to sleep, we probably were the farthest from ideal parents that anyone could imagine for these boys. For the almost teenager with autism, Tourette's syndrome, and the beginning whispers of schizophrenia especially - we would not be anyone's first pick. However, at the time, we were the only option available within two counties. No matter - this child had already survived twelve and a half years of storms without an umbrella, and he was not about to drown in the mud puddle of trial and error that we had to offer him. 

I am aware that we were not prepared by the world's standards of what "qualifies" a person to make a difference in the life of a child living with the challenges of disability and a traumatic past. We had no special training and not a whole lot of support from so-called experts... but we did have a home, some extra beds, and a carboard box in the closet full of matchbox cars and a plastic alligator that would appear as treasure to two little boys with no other place to go. 

Nineteen years later, I am constantly looking back and cringing at the hundreds of mistakes we probably made in trying to raise this boy along with his brother, but I know in my heart that we got at least one thing right. We listened to God when He said that we were to show our love for Him by taking care of anyone who had no one. Still, I believe the important part of any story is not what people do or who they are, but what God does and who He is. What we had to offer this child was so inadequate - the times that we failed him and still do are numerous. But God takes anything we are willing to give to Him and uses it for His purpose according to His plan. I look at our story and and I see it is about some very imperfect, uncertain, unremarkable people - and I also see that it is about an amazing God who is so powerful, so compassionate, so capable that He can use our brokeness to accomplish His task exactly as He intended. God knew that baby born in Colorado 32 years ago would eventually become our son. 

When our son reached adulthood, my brother became our son’s guardian and successfully took on the responsibility to mentor him over the last 14 years into becoming a man... a man who serves God and who serves his community and never knows a stranger. At the same time, however, our son is also a man who struggles with his intellectual limitations and with the ominous shadows of mental illness. He, like all of us, lives in the constant tension of who he is, who he wants to be, and the challenges of the obstacles in-between. The past few years have been difficult for him, as his emotional memory and his psychiatric symptoms battle to reconcile with his present life and sense of well-being. It is a painful struggle. 

I have been thinking about my son for hours today, his birth day. My heart is broken because he is spending this day that should be a celebration of his life in the psychiatric unit of an acute care center. I have been crying angry tears because life's circumstances are so unfair and many times cruel. For the millionth time I feel completely helpless in facing the darkness of the terrible things in this world over which we truly have no control. 

However, in the midst of the battle with my feelings, I choose to remember that God is a good and perfect Father. I choose to focus on the promise that He has a plan and a purpose for everyone's life - everyone's. And I choose to believe the truth that even when life's journey takes us down inconceivable paths of hardship and suffering, if we look to God to lead us through, we will get to the magnificent destination where He knows we belong.

So, in my brokenness I am praying to God, and looking for Him wholeheartedly to be at work in this mess. I am determined to be grateful for the many good things in the life of my son, and to continue to be hopeful for an even better future. 

It's very easy to feel the face of God shining on us in the good times. I am thankful for those mountain tops we find where we experience complete joy and satisfaction. However, I'm aware that it is in the difficult climb that I grasp for His hand and ask Him to hold me up in my weariness, and to trade my heavy burden for His lighter one. It is in the hard places that I have truly come to know God, and to find rest for my restless soul. That knowledge is treasure, and so, on his birthday today, I pray that my son will find rest for his, also.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the LORD. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. In those days when you pray, I will listen. If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me.” Jeremiah 29:11-13 NLT

“Then Jesus said, 'Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.'"
Matthew 11:28-30 NLT

“Share your food with the hungry, and give shelter to the homeless. Give clothes to those who need them, and do not hide from relatives who need your help.”
Isaiah 58:7 NLT

“Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.”
Ecclesiastes 3:11 NLT






Friday, February 6, 2015

Beyond The Wilderness

A desert wind is a powerful force... It flings waves of sand into undulating dunes, mimicking the motion of the sea. It dries the arid landscape into a myriad of wandering cracks which converge in a hundred variable directions. It ceaselessly erodes crumbling sandstone to expose magnificent sculptures of ombré rock once hidden beneath the loose terrain. It is the destructive force of this stalwart wind that reveals the beauty of the desert plain.

It seems like for a long time, I have been wandering in the wilderness of life, my head down in the gale, my mind open to the voice of my Creator, my spirit ebbing and flowing to and from hope. I have learned more and more to wait with my Father, as He patiently teaches me to stay in the oasis of His arms and the shelter of His will. Lately, I've noticed, He has lifted my chin and shielded my eyes from the brilliance of His light, to show me more of the beauty in the residuum surrounding my life.

I have discovered, as I look around, that my life here in the desert is intersected by many lives near me - each one beautiful in a different way than the next, each one pummeled by circumstances which have shaped the person living it into an exquisite form of mercy and grace, clinging to the hope of our God's sovereign will.


"In His fierce love, God sometimes impels us into the wilderness... Amidst harsh dehydration, God’s presence remains."
-Margaret Feinberg



I do not know why God's journey for me must lead, at times, through heartbreak and anguish and separation and sorrow and the difficulties of the desert. It's hard for me to understand why loving someone requires I must go through times of suffering directly related to that love... but the treasure for me in that mystery is that even so, even so, I find that I am still willing to choose to love. I can only comprehend the catalyst of this voluntary sacrificial love by considering what I know of the generous love of my Savior.


...when Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart out of this world to the Father, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. 
-John 13:1 ESV

He loved them to the end!

That is the part that captivates me. That is the part that grabs my heart and begins to try and shape it to look like the heart of Jesus. Knowing the excruciating task of the cross was immediately before him, knowing that the suffering ahead of him was because of the sins of even the very people he was spending his last hours with, even so, even so, Jesus chose to continue to actively love them in their sin. How amazing, how freeing to be always able to choose love and to always make that choice expecting nothing in return!

As I raise my head and look around the wilderness, I see the breathtaking reflection of the love of Jesus Christ in the actions of people whose lives are neighboring mine: 

  • I see one child wild and wounded, embraced for a time by people who have loved and restored her by choice before reluctantly releasing her in obedience and faith, too soon for sane comprehension, into a world of instability and darkeness. I see these people, left behind, continuing to expose their hearts, already raw with the weariness of battle, choosing regardless to continue to grasp in their love still another child... to keep her from drowning herself in silence while covered in iron-willed armor. As they struggle to clothe her spirit instead with light and with hope and with an openness to the healing love of her Heavenly Father, they are desperately aware of the shadowed path ahead that wants to extinguish her flickering flame and wrap her again in grayness and void. Yet, I see they are choosing to love, even so...
  •  I see an abandoned baby boy, received with open arms and open hearts of parents who treasured him without hesitation before they even touched him, despite an awareness of years of expected medical crises and brain surgeries ahead. I see that same boy grown into a young man, ravaged by the emotional effects of his physical battles, still loved, still accepted, even through trying periods of rebelliousness and desperate acting out. I see parents who have loved him unceasingly, even so...
  • I see a beautiful young girl, blind to her own exquisite worth, straining heedlessly against the resolute arms of her steadfast parent, whose overflowing heart refuses to surrender a child to the deception of circumstantial value. I see a parent hanging on with love, even so...
  •  I see a young couple tending their seedling children, nourishing their growth with laughter and faith. I see their faces marked with love and concern as one child wavers at times in the persistent desert sun. I see them reaching up to God in faith, a faith that in turn reaches deep through the desert sand to establish enduring roots of hope and resilience. Already they have learned to bend rather than break with each gust, holding onto the certainty of their Father's hand, even as their child holds to theirs. I see they are determined to never let go of His will, even so...


“Go out and stand before me on the mountain,” the Lord told him. And as Elijah stood there, the Lord passed by, and a mighty windstorm hit the mountain. It was such a terrible blast that the rocks were torn loose, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. And a voice said,“What are you doing here, Elijah?” 
-1 Kings 19:11-13 NLT

When I find myself in wilderness moments (or days or months or years), even though I may feel afraid or uncertain, I know it is important that I try to remember - God's voice does not consist of the circumstances that are pummeling me. His is the gentle whisper that embraces me and directs my response.


Just as you cannot understand the path of the wind... so you cannot understand the activity of God, who does all things.
-Ecclesiastes 11:5 NLT

Today, I see an orphaned infant turned toddler, joyful in spirit though abandoned at birth to her own circumstances - a precious child adored by all whom she touched, yet a child passed without permanency from person to person to place to place, until one predestined day last summer, she found home in the family who chose and were chosen to love her for keeps. She blossomed like a desert rose exposed to the purity of sunlight. Her face was often lit with a smile and her arms open generously to share whatever was delighting her at the moment. Her family embraced her completely, investing their hearts into her life, choosing to see her through eyes of hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. (Romans 5:5 ESV) Within a few short months, the life of this little child profoundly touched the family that began to claim her as their own, and she grew their hearts and their experiences in directions they had not conceived of before. In the space of one short day this week, I see this family devastated - yet choosing in faith to trust in the goodness of their God, the Author of their precious child's life, even as they discovered her story had been written so differently than they ever could have known - a story now merged into their own, changing it forever. And while her chapter on this earth may have ended, her presence will never be forgotten. I see her still in my mind, her little arms signing "baby" as she thrilled over her sweet companions sharing the room with us that day. I imagine her right now, snuggled blissfully in the arms of Jesus and enraptured wholly in His love, content to finally be home forever, beyond the wilderness of the desert. She loved until the end.


When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God. Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. 
-Ephesians 3:14-20 NLT

You will show me the way of life, granting me the joy of your presence and the pleasures of living with you forever.
-Psalm 16:11 NLT